Why Wait For Death To Mow? Why

...if You Do Not Even Understand What Words Say, How Can You Expect To Pass Judgement On What Words Conceal?

Take What The Old-church Found In Mithra's Tomb, Candle And Script And Bell, Take What The New-church Spat Upon And Broke And Shattered.

I Had Drawn Away Into The Salt, Myself, A Shell Emptied Of Life.

Love Is A Garment Riven In The Light That Rises From Parnassus, Showing The Night Is Over.

Thoth, Hermes, The Stylus, The Palette, The Pen, The Quill Endure, Though Our Books Are A Floor Of Smouldering Ash Under Our Feet.